


Hello from the other Side

by Tezzieh



Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, F/F, F/M, Gwaine being a manho, M/M, Masturbation, Mutual Masturbation, Percival always tops btw, Percival being an emotional sod, Pining, a lot of pining, cuteness, fluff and kinky shit
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-11-24
Updated: 2016-02-07
Packaged: 2018-05-03 04:54:05
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,284
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5277425
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Tezzieh/pseuds/Tezzieh
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Percival is just a backwater bakers boy, Gwaine is a posh paddy. Percival knows he makes no chance, even though Gwaine keeps offering.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Seven Times

Lancelot rings the bell of the Manderly residence. “Is Percival home?” He asks. “Yes he is.” Mrs. Manderly answers. “Percy, Lancelot for you at the door!” She calls loudly. Percival runs down four flights of stairs and jumps down the last three steps. He grins at his friend and follows Lancelot to the nearby pond to see who’s stone skits the furthest.  
Week after week, month after month. Winter, Spring, Summer and Fall. Year after year after year. From the day their mothers allowed them out on their own, till the day they moved out to their own appartment near the campus.

Seven times, Percival’s stone skits over the water. “That is a sign from god. You’re blessed.” Lancelot says.

Both had excellent marks on their scholarship tests. They found a house in the area. Now all they had to do was start at Cambridge and do their very best.   
Both are born in East London into underclass working families, both were expected to take over their father’s shops. Lancelot’s father was a carpenter and Percival’s a baker. But Percival wanted to become a wildlife vet and Lancelot has no clue yet, but he fancies laws.   
They are lucky for their scholarships. Neither of their families have enough money to pay the very large fee. Lancelot might be only child, but his father barely gets any work these days. Percival’s father has plenty of work, but Percival also has ten siblings, of which two have severe medical problems.

“No, Lancelot, This is going to be one hell of a ride.” Percival disagrees.


	2. A bucket of Chickenwings

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Percival and Lancelot meet Mordred, Leon and Gwaine and it already goes to shit.

Summer is over. Percival and Lancelot are settled in their new apartment. The three other students they share it with are about to return. Lancelot is eager to meet them, Percival rather anxious.  
“Calm down, they won’t bite you Perce.” Lancelot says calmly. He puts his feet on the coffee table and leans back into the rather expensive looking couch. “But they are all so … Posh. And look at me! I mean, you can trace your heritage back to French nobility. I .. I am just some backwater baker’s boy. Nothing more.” Percival plops down in the huge armchair. “Calm down Percival, they will think twice about messing you over. Hell no one wants to piss of Hulk’s ridiculously hot cousin.” As usual Lance is all smiles. Percival sighs and shakes his head.

In the time Percival leaves for groceries, two of the three housemates arrive back.  
When Percival returns, Lancelot already started making small talk. Percival keeps his silence and sets to clearing away tonights dinner supplies. He doesn’t get much of a chance to stay quietly on the sidelines. The man that strides into the kitchen is almost of an height with him, which startles Percival a little. His hair is a mop of red curls and he gives Perce a bit of a strict look.   
“You must be Percival Manderly. My name is Leon Casterly.” He sticks out a hand. “Lovely to meet you, Leon. I am Percival.” Perce shakes Leon’s hand, taking note of his strength. “Very well.” Leon turns to the living room. “Mordred, come introduce yourself to Percival as well.” He calls out, rather bossy, Percival notices. The boy named Mordred obliges. “Nice to meet you Percival. I am Mordred Whent.” The brown haired lad says stiffly. “Lovely to meet you too Mordred.” Percival gives him a one over. Mordred is a skinny, pale young man. Instantly, Percival decides to protect him. Shyly, Mordred smiles at Percival, as though he knows, and Percival smiles back ever so gently.

~~~

“So, Percival, tell me true. Are you homosexual?”

Percival can only gape at Leon, a bite of fish half way between his mouth and his plate. He did not expect that question in the least, especially not with what little words he’d previousely exchanged with the guy.

“Tut tut, Leon, such intrusive question and even before the poor lad has even laid eyes on me.”

The man that saunters into the kitchen is short and stocky of build. His dark brown locks flow over his shoulders and he walks with a confident joi de vivre. Percival audibly swallows and puts his fork back onto his plate.  
“Gwaine, I didn’t expect you to be home until next week!” Leon gasps. “I had a fall out with mummy, again.” The guy answers, plopping down beside Mordred. “We didn’t exactly count on you with dinner.” Lancelot says , slightly apologetic. He is answered with a chuckle. “Who is the cook?” Gwaine asks with a rather easy smile. “Shouldn’t you first introduce yourself?” Mordred hackles. “Heh, very well, new housemates. My name is Gwaine Noël.” The grin on Gwaine’s face widens. “Name’s Lancelot du Lac, the cook is called Percival Manderly.” Lancelot pronounces. Gwaine turns to Percival and the poor man almost gets dazzled by that godawful attractive smile. “Let me offer you a bargain. Spare some of that fish and broccoli from your mouth and half my bucket of chicken wings if yours.” Gwaine says coyly.  
Percival feels his heart shatter in his chest. He can’t say no, even if he wanted to. “Of course, if only to start off on the right foot.” He says. “There is a fine lad, Percy.” Gwaine helps himself to Percival’s plate.

After dinner Gwaine gives Percival a tap on the bicep. Percival looks down on him. “I believe I owe you chicken wings.” Gwaine says. Percival nods. “I believe you do, bring them on.” He grins calmly. “Follow me. They are in the magic lab.” Gwaine wiggles his eyebrows. “The magic lab?” Percival frowns. “Oh yes. It is where the magic happens, almost daily, multiple times a night, in variating positions.” Gwaine says with a wicked smile, heading up the stairs. Percival follows behind, hesitant in doing so, actually.  
Gwaine’s room is a freaking mess. “Cleaning not in your dictionary?” Percival asks, tracing a finger along a shelf, leaving a trail in the layer of dust. “Ain’t nobody got time for that.” Gwaine plops down on his bed and pulls one of his traveling bags closer. Once the bag in unzipped, the strong smell of KFC bombards Percival’s nose. He feels his mouth starting to water and his belly growls like some sort of boar in rut. “Oh yes you want it.” Gwaine smirks. “I just might.” Percival nods.  
He pulls the desk chair over and sits down after setting the seat on the highest stand. “So, no cuddling?” Gwaine asks. “Do I look like the cuddling type?” Percival frowns. “Oh hell to the yes.” Gwaine replies. “Not really… Only with my siblings actually.” Percival mumbles, looking away. “Awwe, sweet big brother.” Gwaine holds out the bucket. Percival grabs a piece of chicken and sticks it in his mouth, cleaning the bone from its meat like a hyena.

“But on a serious note, are you gay?”

Percival crunches a bone between his teeth. “What is it with you guys and your interest in my preference?” He asks. “Well, Leon practically has a gaydar, bloody homophobe he is. So I thought I’d test the premise.” Gwaine shrugs. “I can in all honesty say that in my whole life I’ve never been in love and I’ve only had one sexual encounter.” Percival replies calmly. Gwaine gapes at him in disbelieve. “What have you been up to all those years?” He asks. “Studying my ass off. I didn’t earn the scolarship with my biceps.” Percival answers. Gwaine makes a face that is part disbelieve and part dark determination.   
“You sure you don’t want to cuddle?” He grins widely. “Yeah pretty sure.” Percival takes the bucket of chicken from Gwaine’s arms. “What is your game Gwaine?” He asks, wanting to know what Gwaine really wanted from him. Gwaine fishes for a piece of chicken, but Percival rolls the chair out of reach. “I have no game. I just want to have some fun. Nothing wrong with that right?” Gwaine smirks. Percival stands and puts the bucket on the desk. “I think I lost my appetite. Night Gwaine.” He walks out of the room and crosses the hallway to enter his own.

He closes the door behind himself and locks it. With shivering hands, he unzips his jeans. His half erect cock is clearly outlined in his half tight boxers. He is angry with himself for getting aroused by being in close proximity to Gwaine. He is also confused with himself. He never felt such instant attraction to anyone. Not to any girl and not to any man. But Gwaine seemingly changes the game. It unsettles Percival a lot. So much so that he plans to avoid Gwaine for a while.  
And yet, as soon as the thought strikes his mind, a second follows almost immediately after. The thought of going back into Gwaine’s room and making clumsy and very sloppy love to him. An idea that partly scared the living daylight out of him and partly served to fuel his arousal. Percival grabs himself through the cloth of his boxers, groaning a little. His blood rushes down to his crotch and he slips a hand into his boxers.  
Just when he’s getting into it, a knock echoes through his room. “Hey… Percy, you alright in there?” Gwaine asks from the other side of the door. Percival freezes, holding his breath, hoping that if Gwaine gets no reply, he’ll leave. Allas, Gwaine knocks again. “I know you are there big guy!” He calls out. Percival is sort of forced to take a sharp inhale, as his brain decides it is a clever move to picture Gwaine walking in on him. “Please leave him be, if his door is locked, it means he wants to be alone.” Percival heard Lancelot say from the other side of the door. He thanks his friend in silence and slums back against the door. “But I can hear him in there, I think he’s jacking off!” Gwaine says. “Don’t be so gastly Gwaine.” Mordred mixes into the conversation. “You all are a bunch of boring twat’s. Fuck the both of you and Leon even more. I am going to hit up Cenred. See ya.” Gwaine’s footsteps can be heard trailing down the stairs.

Percival flops down into the sheets and pulls his duvet over his lower torso. He turns to his side and closes his arms around his pillow. He sighs and nuzzles his face into the pillow as well. He is confused and uncomfortable. He wants to go back to London, to his parents and siblings and pretend this strange instant attraction to Gwaine never happened. But he knows very well that this is no option. He can’t sacrifice his education just because Gwaine swung him off balance.  
When Percival finally falls asleep, it is fitfully and full of dreams he wishes he can forget as soon as wakes up. But naturally his life is never fair and he wakes up with sticky boxers. With a groan he get’s up to shower.

Lancelot, Leon and Mordred are seat at the kitchen table when Percival decides it is time to show up at breakfast as well. “What is the matter, Percival? You seem thoroughly disturbed.” Leon looks up. Percival does not acknowledge him and walks up to the fridge, ripping it open and grabbing eggs, bacon and tomatoes. “How long do I have to wait until you are going to answer?” Leon asks impatiently. Percival only grunts in response and grabs a pan from the drawer.   
“Leon please don’t start this.” Mordred says, sound almost bored. But too late, Leon’s stood from his chair and approaches Percival. Perce turn to face him, brows drawn up in a way that Lancelot know is a warning not to approach. Leon does not know and he get’s right into Percival’s face. Percival moves swiftly for a man his size, snatching the guy’s shoulder and pressing him face first against the fright with a rapid shove. “If me electing not to answer you not a clear enough sign I don’t want to talk to you?” He asks. Leon wrestles to get free, but Percival simply is that much stronger.  
The very moment Leon is about to reply, Gwaine staggers in, looking fifty percent hung over and fifty percent ravished. He immediately looks over at Leon and Percival. “With me you don’t even wana cuddle and Leon you fuck against the fridge when everyone is around. Oh my god, you have no taste. I am much hotter.” Gwaine says, loudly. Percival stands mortified, his grip of Leon weakening. Leon rips himself free and leaves the kitchen. “Percival probably has standarts, Gwaine. You might be my friend, but romantically speaking, you have the value of a seventy year old crack whore.” Mordred says, rather bluntly. “So, you’re calling me a slut?” Gwaine asks. “You only just returned from Cenred’s place and I refuse to believe you played a game of scrabble.” Mordred says, getting up. “I lost my appetite thanks to you Gwaine, I hope you are happy with yourself.” He left the kitchen as well.

“Well, at least I got laid.” Gwaine sits on the spot Mordred only just vacated. His gaze wanders over to Percival, who is literally standing in only just jogging pants. “But I sure am up for round two, if you are as well.” He winks. Percival turns away from his, cracking an egg on the edge of the pan. “I’ll take that as very subtle no. I am too hungover to get plowed right now anyway. I am going to back to sleep.” Gwaine gets back up and waddles into the hall.

“Fucking god, kill me now. I am falling for a complete manwhore...” Percival groans.


End file.
